Ships
by lily moonlight
Summary: She watches the ships in the harbour come and go, knowing that memories and love remain. And when she sees him, she knows she can help him realise that too. Friendship and romance, Mac/Stella. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer**** I own very little, especially not CSI NY. Wish I did though.**

**Notes**** This is a one-shot, which came about from spending a lot of time walking round the docks and harbour of a Cornish town. Exercise is useful for many things! Hope you like it. Reviews always very welcome. Next chapter of 'Cowboys' up tomorrow.**

**Thank you to sarramaks for reading.**

Ships

She had seen him before, though only a few times, as she stood in an accustomed place. A place of passing and times passed. Today the air held her in the gold of late September and smoothed a smile onto her features. It was a day of easeful beauty with a breeze like silk, and her afternoon walk had taken her naturally to the edge of the city. To a place of standing and watching; watching the ships and the people, all that came and went. Watching, but waiting for no earthly ships.

She was still beautiful in her seventh decade, features sculpted now with the elegance of many years and all that they had held. Her eyes were as bright as gemstones, and her waves of hair were still streaked with bronze. Sometimes it caught her by surprise that she had reached such an age, and yet felt no different to when she was in her third decade. Little reminders though pinched and poked at her sometimes - she strode through the city with the same authority and ownership of far fewer years, but the faces that accompanied her were different now; all aged, some vanished altogether. The streets themselves too; in essence the same solid skin of the city, but faster now, wider, and longer at the end of a tired day.

Really though, she was not so old, not in comparison to some of the grand old dames she knew who had sailed on past their first century and into their second; galleons undaunted by the horizon. She hoped to do the same, and had no intentions yet of departing. Despite those who had put forth before and left her behind. One in particular. She thought of him, as always. But it was easier to smile than it had been and memories could rise in her heart now without wrapping themselves so tightly around it she could not feel its beat.

The man a few yards away, hands wrapped around the railing with eyes far across the river unlocked suddenly a memory within the many that jostled for space in a life led without half-measures, and she recognised something in him that had once been a part of her. On an impulse, with the confidence of one who had never feared others' judgement, she walked over, and stood beside him; never intrusive, but her presence as always unconsciously demanding notice. Her eyes joined his across the rippled steel of the river. For a few moments they shared the scene, companions in thought, until she accepted the moment to speak.

"I never tire of this view."

He smiled without moving his face away, "Neither do I."

"Pardon me for saying so, don't take this as the confession of a stalker either, but I've noticed you a few times here before."

"You don't strike me as a stalker." The man faced her now, leaving one hand still curled round the railing. His eyes, she saw, were exactly like _his_ had been; the turning colours of the ocean, altering under the suns and winds, light and dark in a single glance.

"Glad you think that. This is a place I come often. I'm someone who notices, so give an older lady the satisfaction of observing life, and a handsome man." She gave him a smile from eyes that flashed like jewels in the sun's reflection, and his mouth widened into a crooked grin.

"Don't hear that compliment too often, ma'am. I ought to thank you."

"Thanks accepted, sir. So, now, allow me a question: why do you come here?"

The grin contracted into a mouth lined at the edges, and she placed a hand closer to his on the sun-warmed railing, "Forgive a curious older lady."

"I come to think, find a moment's silence, remember. Sometimes not even that. Guess it's become a habit, my feet lead me here." His eyes were warmer, and met hers in kind.

"I understand, same's true for myself." She pushed a lock of hair back behind her ear. Her hands were gloved against the faint chill of the rapidly passing season. "I remember many things, many people, one most of all. When I saw you again just now, there was a look of him about you, same way of standing; straight back. He was a military man in his younger days, before I met him, carried the stance all through his life. You've seen service yourself?"

The man nodded, "I have." But added no more, and she knew the human heart well enough to pry no further.

They were both silent for a few moments, listening as gulls laughed and cried amongst the docks.

He caught her off guard with his question, "You've loved?"

The river ebbed and swelled below them. "Loved and lost, same as everyone."

"Your husband?"

Both her hands caught the railing, ran along them an arm's breadth, back together, "We'd known each other a _long_ time, friends, knowing each other's thoughts sometimes before our own. And for a long time we danced around each other's, never quite finding the right moment, never quite the right time. We left it late."

"Too late?" Dove grey now, his eyes were sympathetic.

She smiled though, and there was summer in her eyes, "Not too late. No, it wasn't too late. You know, in the end I asked him, said to him I saw no reason why not, and all the reasons why we should overrode any objections there might be, and he agreed with me. Something he usually did."

He grinned, and she wondered if a memory flashed in his eyes, "And what did he say, when you asked him?"

"Yes, of course. We married and we were happy, for many years."

"But not enough."

"There could never have been enough years, even if we'd both lived to be a hundred. We had time together, and that was what we had to be content with. He - he was killed though, almost ten years ago, and I don't spend a day not wishing the sun had never risen on _that_ day." She held her breath and her lips pressed together, the view blurred momentarily, but she blinked fiercely, "A car accident, he was a passenger with a close friend. They were both killed, instantly. Kid out for the first time with his licence ran into them, killed himself too, but that was no consolation."

"I'm sorry."

The truth, even from well-worn words, was clear in his eyes, and she nodded, "Yes. And you. You've loved and lost too."

His hands disappeared into his coat pockets, and his eyes hid amongst a nebula, "Yes."

But she knew how to read the stars, "And you have a chance to love again."

A siren sounded in the distance as a liner swept a clean furrow across the water. Silver ruffles rolled towards the shore, he followed their path before answering her, "Maybe. It's - complicated. We have a friendship that means more to me than anything else, if I lose that…"

"Who says you have to lose that? You gain more than you lose, take it from someone who knows, someone who has more than a few years on you, young man." She chuckled suddenly, "Man, never thought I'd catch myself saying _that!_"

He smiled, and his face lost some of the lines that pressed into his skin.

The sun glimmered on them both, and she found her hand in his, "I have to go, but, thank you ma'am, not least for your company."

She squeezed his hand in return, "Pleasure's mine, enjoyed your company, not often I get to speak to a good-looking younger man. Whose name I don't even know." Her wink accompanied a glowing smile, and she saw again a flash in his eye. Impulsive as always she held onto his hand for a brief moment longer, "Don't come alone next time your feet lead you here."

His answer was a smile with a promise she chose to read into it, and with that, for now, she had to be satisfied.

A week later, she found herself back again, this time in the amber light of October, with cloudless, dreaming skies above, and cobalt water below. Only a hint of an iron chill in the breeze. The afternoon spilled shadows that wavered on the water. Fleets waited in the distance. Glad of the coat she had wrapped herself in, she leaned her elbows on the railings and gazed around in peace. She was alone, letting her thoughts take her eyes away across the years, when she heard footsteps. Two sets of footsteps; one she recognised the heavier tread of, and the other, a lighter accompaniment ,she did not. But she made a guess, and a hope. They stopped a little way down from her and she took no embarrassment in looking at them. He stood next to a woman with curly hair and eyes that were emerald even at a distance, who had her arm through his, face turned towards him. He was smiling, and oblivious at that moment to anyone else, and she heard him speak a name that was written in the stars.

Seeing them, she smiled the bitter sweet of loved, still loving, and loss. And then he saw her, and, taking the woman by the hand, walked over.

"You gave me advice, and I owe you a name." He said, holding out his hand, dark hair smoothed by the breeze. "Mac Taylor."

**Please let me know what you think, all thoughts welcome. Thank you. Lily x**


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